


Take It Easy

by sweet_magnolias



Category: Dream SMP - Fandom, Minecraft (Video Game)
Genre: 5+1 Things, Angst, Canon Compliant, Dads Ranboo and Tubbo, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Found Family, Gen, NOT THE CCs, Only the SMP Characters, Platonic Relationships, Uncle Technoblade (Video Blogging RPF), but only kind of, platonic marriage
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-16
Updated: 2021-03-21
Packaged: 2021-03-25 10:21:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 9,376
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30087621
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sweet_magnolias/pseuds/sweet_magnolias
Summary: Five times Techno scared Michael, one time Michael scared him, and the resolution of those fears.
Relationships: Michael & Tubbo & Ranboo, Ranboo & Tubbo, Technoblade & Michael, Technoblade & Ranboo
Comments: 74
Kudos: 583





	1. The Purple Monster

Michael rolled over on his bed, keeping the blanket clutched around his shoulders as he did so that no cold air could rush into the gaps. He loved living with Ranboo and Tubbo, his brand-new dads, but everywhere was cold compared to his old home of fire and lava. He could see the dim light from the glowing coals in the fireplace across the room, barely cutting through the chill that steeped through the window. He closed his eyes, trying to remember the crackling sounds of the controlled fires in his village. He would always fall asleep a short distance from the fire, curled up against a warped stem and laying on the warm netherrack, listening to the grown piglins chat and grunt about the going-ons in the forest. He missed them.

Michael’s throat began to get sore, and his eyes started to burn. He blinked rapidly, forcing streams of wet tears down his bristled cheek. He was a big boy, and strong piglin, and a long time ago when a baby hoglin had headbutted him into a stem for stealing its warped fungus, one of the elders had told him that strong piglins do not cry. So Michael sat up, blanket still wrapped tightly around his body, and slid off the bed onto the frigid hardwood floor. His cloven feet made soft tapping noises on the wood as he made his way into the tiny kitchen, weaving through half-filled boxes haphazardly placed in the small living space. If he was going to avoid crying, Michael told himself, then all he needed was a cup of water to help his throat quit hurting.

He stopped in front of the chest filled with glass bottles. Some were empty, ready to be filled with potions. Other were filled with dark, viscous liquid that he was told to never touch, ever, or he would be hurt really bad. There were a few filled with water, but when he reached to grab one, he hesitated. Ranboo didn’t like him to use glass things, because they could break easily. Michael eased the lid of the chest down and climbed on top of it to reach the cabinet above him for one of the wooden cups Tubbo had carved for him.

Michael managed to open the cupboard and grab the smooth, sanded cup. He closed its door quietly and was about to climb down when he noticed a flash of purple out in the snow. He squinted and pressed his face against the cold window, still standing atop the chest, trying to discern the shapes littered in the dark. Michael didn’t know everything about the Overworld yet, but he knew the skinny build of the sharpshooting skeletons that would fill your hide with arrows, and he knew what Ranboo had warned him concerning the crawling spiders and the creepers that hissed before they went boom. But there was another monster out there, one he had only heard of in the whispers between adult piglins. It had the hard, glowing black and purple shell that was impossible to break, and it had a sword forged from the same material that was super sharp and could set fire to anything. If you saw the purple, you were supposed to run away as fast as you could. Even a Nether Fortress filled with the black skeletons and the yellow blazes that shot fire at you was safer than one of the purple monsters if it decided to come after you.

This particular purple monster was slashing through all the other monsters. Michael’s heart began to race seeing how fast the purple monster killed the others. It was faster than a ghast’s fireball; it left the creepers dead on the ground before they even had a chance to explode. He started to sweat, realizing that the adults weren’t just trying to scare the piglets for eavesdropping, but instead, the purple monster was very real.

And very dangerous.

Michael was so locked onto to the moonlit scene that he didn’t hear Ranboo walk in until the gentle and warm pressure of a hand was on his shoulder. Michael jumped, consequently dropping the cup. The thunk of the cup hitting the chest and then the floor was also unexpected, so he squealed in response.

“Whoa,” Ranboo said, his voice low and soothing. “It’s alright, bud, it’s just me.”

Michael turned away from the window to see his dad towering above him, his green and red eyes both crinkled into a smile. Michael lifted up his hands, fists bunched into his blanket so that it draped across his arms and shoulders like a cloak. Ranboo immediately scooped him up, his large hands wrapped around Michael’s torso underneath his arms and settled him onto his hip. The warmth that came from his dad’s body heat caused him to shiver; he hadn’t even realized that he was cold from standing in front of the frosted pane until he had been spooked. He reached his arms around his dad and tucked his head against Ranboo’s chest. He could feel the rumble when Ranboo spoke to him again.

“What were you doing up?” It wasn’t mean like the big piglins who caught them playing in the trees when they were supposed to sleeping, who pinched their ears as they dragged them back to their cots and threatened to cut off the tips if they didn’t behave. It was kind and curious. Michael felt safe enough to tell him.

“Vater,” Michael said, still unable to form the word properly. Ranboo didn’t seem to mind his mispronunciation.

Ranboo turned around, looking for the cup from when it had bounced on the floor. He spotted it and squatted with Michael still on his hip, retrieving the cup. “Here you go,” he said. Michael grabbed it and clutched it to his chest, making no indication of wanting to be put down. “What were you looking at?” Ranboo asked.

“Monster.”

Ranboo nodded. “Yes, there’s lots of monsters that come out at night. But don’t worry, they’ll go away with the sun comes out.”

Michael shook his head vigorously enough that his ears flopped. “No. Purple monster.”

“Purple monster?” Ranboo repeated, making sure he had heard correctly through the thick piglin accent Michael had.

Michael nodded and pointed out the window. Ranboo ducked until he was eye level with the window and observed the scene outside. The purple monster was still going, sending snow flying as he turned, attacked, and blocked with terrifying speed. Ranboo hummed as the pieces came together. He straightened back up and carried Michael over to the living room window, which was bigger and offered a clearer picture. “That’s not a monster, Michael,” Ranboo said.

“It’s not?”

“No. That’s mister- unc- that’s Technoblade. My friend.”

“Oh.” They both watched him work steadily through the snow — a killing machine.

“You haven’t met him yet because he’s been busy going on adventures.”

_Adventurers going to the nether. Killing innocent piglins. Blood sprayed everywhere, blending into the red netherrack_. Michael shrunk in on Ranboo, holding him tighter. “It’s scary.”

Ranboo lifted his free hand to rub on Michael’s back. He swayed, rocking Michael gently from side to side. “Yes, he’s scary, but only to the monsters. Only things that are bad- things that deserve it. He kills monsters to protect me. To protect you. And he took me in, kind of like how me and your other dad took you. He helped me when there were bad things after me.”

“Is he your dad?”

Ranboo laughed softly, the vibrations from his chest soothing against Michael’s head where it was laid. “No, he’s more like a brother.” The laugh faded, and together, they watched Techno fight to protect them. Eventually, Ranboo cleared his throat. Michael looked up at his dad’s black and white face. “Do you still want some water?”

Michael nodded, and Ranboo carried him back into the kitchen. Ranboo placed him on the crafting bench, and Michael swung his legs while he waited for Ranboo to fetch a water bottle out of the chest. Michael held out his cup, allowing Ranboo to fill it. With his dad standing near him and his dad’s friend-brother fighting all the bad monsters outside, Michael took a sip, forgetting why he wanted water in the first place.


	2. Someone to Protect

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This whole series was inspired by a short comic that Polkahdotti did on TikTok. This chapter in particular is heavily based off of one of their works. Check out their art; it’s really good!

Braced against the howling wind whipping snow into his face and under every layer of clothing, Technoblade knocked on the spruce door. He waited a beat, and then, getting impatient, lifted his fist to knock again. He connected with the door only once before it swung open, Ranboo standing behind it. Ranboo looked down on him, blinking in confusion. “Um, hi Techno,” he said, voice raised slightly to compete with the sound of the wind.

A gust of wind blew his cloak up and raced up his back. Techno gritted his teeth against the cold. _Technofreezing, Technocold, EEEEEEE_. “Can I come in?”

“Oh, yeah, of course!”

Ranboo moved out of the way, allowing Techno to duck through the door. Ranboo practically slammed the door behind him, the wind protesting at not being allowed inside.

“I’ve got some coffee made from earlier. You want some?”

“Yeah, no milk-“

“-No sugar. I know.” Ranboo shot Techno a smile before turning towards the stove, reaching for the kettle on top. Techno unbuttoned his cloak and shook the snow off of it. He hung it on a hook by the door before stomping the snow off of his boots. _Technomess, not pog, clean it_.

“Do you want me to sweep out the snow?” Techno asked, hoping it would quell the voices. Ranboo turned from the stove, two ceramic mugs full of steaming liquid in his hands.

Ranboo shook his head and placed them both on the kitchen table. “No, I’ll get it. I’m sure you’re tired from your journey and cold from the storm.” _Awww, Ranboonice, Ranboosweet_.

Technoblade nodded and sat down in one of the roughhewn chairs. He grabbed the mug and slid it closer to him, fingers wrapped around it with as much pressure as he could stand with the mug as hot as it was. Ranboo grabbed a straw broom that was propped up against one of his cabinets and swept all of the snow into a pile before shoving it out the door. Once the floor was cleared, he settled into the spot across from Techno, bringing his own cup up to his mouth.

“When did you get back?” Ranboo asked after he had taken a sip.

“Last night. I’ve been checkin’ up on all the farms, clearin’ out mobs — I just now got done.”

“I’m glad you’re anxious to see me, but you could’ve waited until after the snowstorm,” Ranboo said, his voice light and joking.

Techno huffed, his version of a laugh. “You’re not wrong. I needed to show you these.” Techno reached into a pocket lining his cloak and pulled out five scrolls. Ranboo’s eyes widened at the rolls of frayed, aged paper before they narrowed.

“How many of these have you looked at already?”

“Just one, this one.” Techno gently set them all on the table and then pulled out one that had color peaking on the edge. He handed it to Ranboo, who took it and opened it eagerly.

“A woodland mansion.”

“Yep. Pretty small though, I only got two totems, some emeralds, and some diamonds out of it.”

“And the rest of these?”

Techno waved towards them. “Have a look. Two more mansions and two ocean monuments. You had no idea how far I had to go to find ones that didn’t already have copies circulating.”

Ranboo opened the empty maps one by one, taking note of the outlines of the terrain. “I’m guessing you want me to go with you to loot the rest of these?”

“Yes.”

“And why the monuments? We already have a guardian farm.”

Techno scoffed. “Yeah, but it’s Tubbo’s, so it basically belongs to the government. I really don’t want to associate with a place like that.” Techno saw the way the Ranboo stiffened in his chair, how the knuckles on the hand holding the coffee mug got lighter, how his jaw tightened. He chose to ignore it.

“I don’t know about draining a whole other monument, but we can at least get the sponges,” Ranboo said. “That’ll be useful. When do you want to go?”

“Tomorrow mornin’.”

“Tomorrow morning? Why?”

“The village I got these from said that they’ve heard of other villages nearby who had people from the SMP pokin’ around. Chances are, they could have a copy of the maps, and we need to beat them to it.”

“Tech, I can’t go tomorrow. I can’t go for a while, actually. I’ve got a lot of stuff going on around here that I need to be here for.”

Techno glanced around the cabin, finally noticing all of the boxes stacked around the living area. Some were closed, wrapped in string and labeled neatly on the side. Others were open, only half empty, items stacked neatly on top of each other and crinkled paper filling in the gaps. “Are you packin’ for somethin’?” Techno asked.

He glanced back at Ranboo, who’s ears were lowered, and he shifted in his seat uncomfortably. “Yeah, I was going to talk to you about it, but you’ve been gone for a while.”

“Are you movin’ out?” Despite his efforts to police his tone, Techno sounded offended.

“Yes, but also no. I’m, uh, going to a secondary location, setting up another base. But don’t worry, I’ll still be visiting here pretty regularly.”

Techno took a sip of his coffee, thinking. “Where you movin’ to?”

“Uh,” Ranboo said, clearly hesitating. Techno raised an eyebrow. “Snowchester.”

_Snowchester?_ Techno’s heart dropped and suddenly he felt the need to move. He stood up, pushing the chair back, and it screeched across the floor. “Snowchester?” The word was low and menacing, a veiled threat. Ranboo stood up as well, careful to keep the table in between them.

Techno started walking around the table slowly, facing Ranboo. Ranboo began moving as well, maintaining the distance. “Please tell me what on earth it was that made you want to move to another country with another government.” Techno’s jaw was clenched, and the words were forced through gritted teeth.

Ranboo lifted his arms, hands open, begging for peace. “Techno, you were gone awhile. A lot has changed.”

Techno stopped, and his hands formed fists at his sides. “Enlighten me.”

Ranboo took a deep breath, closing his eyes for a moment, readying himself. There was no way this was going to be good.

“I got married,” he finally said.

“You got married,” Techno echoed. Ranboo nodded.

“Platonically, of course.”

“Of course.”

“For tax benefits, a general sense of community, getting to spend the night with my best friend, tackling challenges together—“ Ranboo kept rambling about the perceived benefits of the institution, but ice began to form in Techno’s veins at the words _best friend_.

“Ranboo, who did you marry?” Ranboo immediately froze, eyes wide like creature that knew it was about to be slaughtered. The ice melted, replaced by hot, raging anger.

“Who did you marry?”

Ranboo’s ears flicked down and back before he timidly responded. “Tubbo.”

Techno snarled and leaped across the table before Ranboo could dodge. He grabbed the man and forced him against the wall behind him, bunching the fabric of his shirt tight in his fists. “You’re married to the leader of Snowchester?” Techno yelled, inches away from his face and tusks bared. “After everything governments have put us through, you’re betrayin’ me for one?” The voices joined in, chanting for retribution. _Ranboo is a traitor, blood for the blood god, EEEEEEEEE_.

“It’s not that simple!” Ranboo yelled. He set his jaw in a hard line, returning Techno’s stare with a cold one of his own. “I have someone that I want to protect.”

“Protect? PROTECT? What is it? Huh? What could you possibly have that warrants a _marriage,_ that you want to pro—” a door creaked open on the other side of the room “—tect.” He trailed off, and both of the men turned their heads toward the door that led to a bedroom, which was open and had a small piglin wearing a onesie standing in the doorway and clutching a blanket.

He rubbed his eyes, yawned, and blinked slowly at the men. “I heard yelling,” he said, his voice soft and shaky.

Techno stared at the young piglin in shock, and his grip on Ranboo’s shirt loosened. Ranboo’s voice was hard, his ears turned downward as he asked, “Why don’t you unhand me in front of my _son_.”

Techno let go and stepped away, eyes still on the little piglin, whose bottom lip was quivering, whose eyes were shiny with tears, and whose ears were back and practically flat against the bristled hairs on his head. Ranboo turned towards him, forcing his ears up and a smile on his face. He knelt to the ground, doing his best to get on his eye level. “Hey, Michael,” Ranboo said soothingly. “I’m sorry that we woke you up. Come here.” Ranboo opened his arms and Michael trotted over, blanket dragging on the floor, and leaned into them. Once Ranboo had him settled against his chest, he stood up. “This guy is Technoblade,” Ranboo said, turning so that Michael could look at him. Michael refused, burying his head in Ranboo’s chest.

Even though he was quiet and was muffled by Ranboo’s shirt, Techno could still hear him mutter, “He’s got his purple on.”

Even despite the tense situation, Ranboo laughed. “Yes, he does.” _Purple?_ Technoblade looked down at his netherite chest plate, shimmering with enchantments which was – purple. _Oh_.

“Because he fights the monsters.”

“Yes, he does.”

Michael turned his head so that his right eye was peeking out, and he stared at Techno. “Daddy said you helped him.” Techno’s mouth opened and immediately shut, unable to find words. He glanced up at Ranboo. All traces of anger had melted away from Ranboo’s face as he gazed at his son in his arms. Ranboo looked up to Techno and met his eyes.

“Yeah, I did,” Ranboo said, still looking at Techno. The message in Ranboo’s eyes was clear. _Please understand_.

Techno did.

Michael leaned back in Ranboo’s arms and began to rub the heel of his hand against his left eye. Ranboo looked back down. “Are you ready to go back to bed?” Michael nodded slowly, still rubbing his eye. He rested his head back on Ranboo’s chest and wrapped his arms around Ranboo’s neck. Ranboo tried not to wince when his chubby fingers grabbed at his hair. “I’m going to put him back down and I’ll be right back out,” Ranboo said to Techno. He walked through the maze of boxes on the floor and into the bedroom. It only took a few minutes before Ranboo stepped back out and gently shut the door behind him.

“We found him.” Ranboo broke the silence between them. “Tubbo and I. He was by himself in a basalt delta, hiding in a corner from some magma cubes and some hoglins that were on the edge of a nearby crimson forest. We tried to find his community, but all we found were some old bonfire sites and overturned crimson stems. We couldn’t leave him.”

Techno sighed, refusing to meet Ranboo’s gaze. He noticed an already packed box in the corner labeled “toys.” It was one of the bigger boxes. “I know,” he finally replied. Phil had once felt the same a long time ago. “Just keep him safe.”

“We are. Tubbo and I both would do anything to keep him safe.”

“Good.”

Techno looked up to see Ranboo giving him a soft smile. “I know you didn’t really need me to come with you, but thanks for the offer.”

He nodded and stepped over to where his cloak hung by the door. He reached into one of the pockets, and his fingers wrapped around cold gold. He lifted the object out and placed it on the table. Emerald eyes sparkled in the yellow lantern light. “In case he needs it,” Techno mumbled. He grabbed the collar of his cloak and slung it over his shoulders. “I’m goin’ to head back. I got a lot to do before I leave tomorrow.”

Ranboo opened the door for him as Techno fastened the cloak. “Stay safe,” he said.

Techno huffed. “Don’t I always?”

He stepped out into the night, the almost full moon glittering bright on the snow, illuminating the landscape in soft, white light. The storm had stopped, and peace hung in the air. The snow was smooth and unbroken, not yet ruined by the mobs he could see lurking in the far tree line. Ranboo closed the door softly behind him, the clicking of the lock and sliding of the dead bolt echoing through the still air. Techno took a moment, not yet ready to stray off the porch and mar the beautiful scene. He tried not to think about how he also needed the moment to push away the creeping grief of losing yet another ~~brother~~ friend, to Tubbo, of all people, and to government, and to—

—Michael. 

Techno sighed, and tendrils of condensation twisted through the cold air as his breath left his mouth. Michael, a young piglin, found by men who cared. Michael, who was by himself, his family lost, community destroyed, wandering the Nether on his own. Michael, who was probably reeling through the culture shock of experiencing another dimension, but who would learn to love the people who took him in, who would learn to appreciate the cold, who’s memories of past piglin friends and family would blur until dad meant someone of the Overworld. Michael, who’s story would be written to mirror his own.

_Technowatched. He sees you_. Techno felt the hairs on the back of his neck prickle, and he looked down the porch to see yellow light streaming out of a window and a small pink face squished against it. He forgot his reluctance of ruining the snow and stepped out in it to get a better angle. The snout followed him as he walked in an arc to a position directly in front of the window, leaving a streak of moisture from the warmth. Puffs of frost melted and refroze with the piglin’s steady breath, and through the window, Techno met Michael’s eyes. Michael’s eyes widened when he realized Techno was staring right at him. But it was fascination, curiosity, and not fear, Techno noted, the strings on his heart becoming tight. Despite himself, Techno smiled. He could feel his tusks peak out since his teeth were practically bared. Most people recoiled when they saw it, being reminded of an aggressive animal. But Michael grinned. He backed away from the window and held his pointed index fingers up to the spots where his own tusks would eventually grow in. With a pang, Techno remembered doing the exact same thing when he was young to emulate all the adults in his community he respected.

Michael dropped his fingers and shook both of his hands, waving Techno goodbye. Techno lifted his own hand off of the hilt of his sword where it was resting and waved back. Even though he couldn’t hear him, Techno could tell that Michael squealed in excitement. He turned towards his cabin. _What a sweet kid_ , Techno thought to himself, and the voices practically erupted. _AWWWWW, Technosoft, EEEEEEEEEE, Technofamily, Technouncl-_

“He is _not_ family,” Techno muttered to himself. He began his walk across the field, the snow crunching beneath his feet. He was too aware of the little piglin watching his every move as the distance increased. What he didn’t know was how happy Michael was to have someone else who looked kind of like him in the Overworld, even if that person made his dad sad sometimes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A little Techno-centric instead of Michael-centric, but I wanted to see what Techno would think about meeting him. Next chapter is Michael’s POV and will probably be up within four or five days!


	3. Watch Your Mouth

Alone in his room, Michael heard the sounds of hooves echoing down the road outside his new home. He raced to his window, climbing on top of his toy chest in order to see. Not very many people rode horses through town, but he loved to watch them ride the creatures that were like skinny hoglins but were actually a lot nicer and ate grass and apples instead of fungi and dead piglins.

Coming down the street, Michael saw the most beautiful brown horse covered in light blue armor. He gasped at the sight and stood mesmerized, chubby pink fingers clutching at the windowsill and chin resting on the ledge. The horse had his neck arched proudly, his black mane shining in the sun. With every beat of hoof on stone, the black silky tail swished in time. It took Michael a couple of seconds of watching the horse before he realized that someone was on top of it. This particular rider had black boots, a red cloak, and when the wind blew it back, a purple shell was revealed. “Technoblade,” Michael whispered in delight. Ever since his dad Ranboo had taken him to live at Snowchester with his other dad Tubbo, he had not gotten a chance to see Technoblade in his purple fighting bad monsters in the snow or see him talking with Ranboo in their old house.

It didn’t take long for Techno and the horse made it past the window and rounded the corner where Michael couldn’t see. Michael slid off of the chest, letting himself gently fall to his knees before standing up and running to the living room. He turned out of the hallway and slipped and fell. He didn’t even notice the slight throbbing on the elbow he caught himself with; he was so desperate to get to the large window that had a proper seat with cushions and pillows. It was his favorite spot — he could watch the whole commune from it, and it would be perfect for watching Techno on his pretty horse.

Michael made it to the window seat and climbed up in it just in time to see Techno pass. He forgot about the rules about not smudging or leaning on the glass; he put his palms directly on the glass and pressed so close that his breath formed circles of condensation. Techno’s horse was slowing down. Techno stopped him with a gentle pull on the reins and a low “whoa,” that Michael could hear from inside the house. He dismounted and patted the horse on the shoulder where light blue didn’t cover. Techno moved the reins in front of the horse and lead him down the road. From the other street, Michael noticed his dads Tubbo and Ranboo walking very quickly towards Techno. Tubbo waved his arm and shouted for someone; the stable hand came and approached Techno’s horse to take him. Michael could tell that Techno didn’t like that idea. Techno shook his head no and stepped closer to the horse. Tubbo’s hands were out and open and he was talking with a smile. Techno said something, Tubbo frowned, and Ranboo stepped in front of Tubbo.

Technoblade didn’t seem to like Tubbo very much.

Michael didn’t understand why.

Eventually the stable hand took the horse, and Michael knew that giving the pretty horse to the stable hand was the right move. The stable hand was always nice to Michael. He gave him apples to feed the horses, and he let him sit on his shoulders so that he could brush the horses, but not too hard or rough because it might hurt the horse, and he didn’t want to be mean. The stable hand would be nice to Techno’s horse, too, and he would probably give him several apples. If Michael had hundreds of apples, he would give them all to Techno’s horse, because he was so pretty.

Voices were getting louder and closer to the house. Michael stopped staring at the horse and realized his dads and Techno were walking towards the door. Michael jumped off of the window seat and ran to his room. He climbed into his bed, worming his way into his blankets until he couldn’t see any light. The skin above his hooves could still feel the cool air, but that didn’t matter. As long as he couldn’t see, then he was well hidden.

Michael didn’t think Techno was going to come to Snowchester, and he definitely didn’t expect Techno to come into his _house_. He heard the front door open and shut, the sounds of Tubbo and Ranboo and Techno much louder than before. Michael drew his knees to his chest. Maybe his feet needed to be under the blankets with his eyes after all.

Michael listened intently, trying to figure out what was going on. It wasn’t yelling like with the first time that he met Techno. It had made his dad really sad, but he liked Techno, and he liked that Techno had his tusks grown in like a strong warrior. Michael put his two fingers on the dull parts of his canines. He was ready for his tusks to grow in _now_ , and then he could be a strong warrior like Techno.

Michael dropped his hands from his mouth. He was getting stuffy underneath the blanket. He threw it off of his head, the light almost hurting when it hit his eye. The cold air was a relief, though.

Ranboo, Tubbo, and Techno were still talking in the front of the house. Timidity let loose and curiosity gained control — Michael decided to go investigate. He slid out of the blankets and off of the bed, hooves hitting the floor as quiet as he could. He made his way to the door, making sure to peak to the left and the right to make sure the coast was clear before slipping into the hallway.

At the end of the hallway, Michael crouched behind the corner, hiding in the shadows from where the kitchen lantern couldn’t quite reach. Slowly, because that’s how you’re supposed to move when you’re trying not to be seen, he glanced into the living area. Ranboo, Tubbo, and Techno were standing the kitchen talking. None of them looked his way. It was the perfect opportunity for Michael to dash to the couch and tuck himself into the cushions. It was the most strategic location, the front of the couch faced the fireplace, and they wouldn’t be able to see him there. It was comfy, and he had the back to cover him. Michael rolled over so that he could get his legs underneath him. Steadying himself on the back of the couch, he raised himself up into a half squatting, half standing position, just barely able to see over it. Here, he could watch the men talk, and he could see Techno’s shining purple shell.

Michael watched and listened for a few minutes, proud of his hiding spot but also completely oblivious to the fact that the corner of Techno’s mouth was turned up in a ghost of a smile. Instead, he tried to figure out what was meant by the words _taxes_ and _laws_ , _testing sites_ and _nuclear waste_.

After a little bit more eavesdropping and some frustration around the fact that he couldn’t understand, Michael gave up on hiding and listening to the grown-ups. He flopped onto the couch, the cushions giving in as they caught him. He looked up at the ceiling and tried to think of something to do. He let his head roll to the side so he could watch the fireplace. It wasn’t blazing as brightly as it was when he got up this morning and Tubbo was keeping it fed to stave off the chill, but a few coals still burned brightly. The coals looked almost exactly like a ghast’s firecharge. He had only seen a firecharge up close once before when a ghast had appeared from the other side of a wide lavafall and shot near the cliff where he stood. Usually, the adults would hear the cries beforehand when the ghast was very far away, and they would usher the children into the depths of the crimson forest where it was safe while they shot it down. Michael and the other kids would talk about how they were big enough to fight, even though none of them had ever shot a crossbow before. Complaining would soon turn to games as they sat underneath low hanging shroom lights, and they would make patterns of shadows across the nylium ground. After the adults grunted the all clear signal, the kids would run out of the woods and recreate the epic fight they think happened. Michael missed getting to play with his piglin friends, but he could still pretend.

Michael grinned. Suddenly the spruce floors were netherrack, the white sheer curtains were warped vines, the couch was a cliff, the kitchen was a lava pool that he couldn’t go in, and the shadow on the wall was a ghast that was spitting a firecharge right at him. Michael managed to roll off of the cliff before it exploded right behind him. He ran to the ~~armchair~~ giant crimson root and climbed up it. The high ground made you a target, but it was perfect for getting a clear shot against a ghast. He loaded a crossbow bolt and then sent it flying. It landed perfectly between its eyes. Michael cheered, and so did all the other young piglins. They were his brute army, and him their fearless leader.

Any army could only be made better by a cavalry, so he took off, everyone else following in a quest to find hoglins. Michael circled the little spot of nether he had until they found a hoglin herd big enough for all of them. He got the biggest, bravest hoglin though. He was the leader, so he had to have it.

They all got on their hoglins and ran around the ~~living room~~ nether, looking for monsters to fight. They stumbled upon a nether fortress, as tall and as wide as the couch. Nether fortresses were incredibly dangerous, and only the bravest piglins could go in. But Michael was the bravest of the brave, and he was so strong that the rest of his army followed him in, because they weren’t afraid with him there. They searched the hallways, shooting down the black skeletons with bolts that hit with one hundred percent accuracy, looking for the most dangerous rooms that only the most elite group of piglin brutes could go into.

The blaze spawner room.

Michael followed the light and the sound of fire crackling until he stood in front of the spinning box. Three blazes tumbled out, their fire swelling and rods crackling in preparation for attack. Michael shouted a war cry, something he had only heard the older piglin kids say when there weren’t adults around, something about what he would do to the blaze’s mother after he killed it. He didn’t know what it meant, but he said it anyway.

“ _I heard that_.”

Michael whipped around, the nether gone, the blazes gone, his army gone, and looked at Techno, his eyes wide. Even though Michael kind of thought Techno looked like him, Michael had only ever heard him speak Overworld. He didn’t think Techno spoke Piglish, but he apparently, he could.

Which meant Techno heard what he said, which wasn’t supposed to be said in front of any adults, ever, or the big kids would pull on your tail. Michael didn’t want his tail to get pulled.

“ _Watch your mouth_ ,” Techno said. It wasn’t as gruff and cacophonic as Piglish was supposed to be, but Michael could still understand him perfectly. “ _Don’t say that again, understand_?”

Michael nodded furiously. “ _Yes, sir_.” Michael picked up his imaginary crossbow and went back to running around.

“What was he saying?” Ranboo asked. Michael froze again, staring at Techno. Michael shook his head. _Please don’t tell_.

The corners of Techno’s mouth turned up ever so slightly. “He was fighting some blazes, and I gave him some very important Piglin advice.”

Ranboo and Tubbo nodded, trying to make sense of child antics. “Alright, I guess,” Ranboo said, and they went back to their discussion on usage of the soul sand highway. Michael grinned at Techno. He quickly went back to ~~playing~~ leading his army, not noticing the quizzical look Techno gave him as he wondered if Michael’s smile had always been lopsided.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to 7CxRhye for helping me proofread!


	4. Fun in the Rain

Techno stepped outside after his meeting with Ranboo and Tubbo in Snowchester and felt mixed emotions by getting immediately soaked in rain. If he stayed out in it too long, he’d have to make sure to polish and then reseal his armor so that it wouldn’t rust. He’d probably also end up having to wash his cloak so that it wouldn’t get musty. On the other hand, the spring rain was perfect for ripping through the skies with his trident. It was a good thing he always carried it with him.

Techno made his way to the docks to ensure the safety net of the ocean was nearby and thought about the meeting. It had gone fairly well; Tubbo loved to build and develop —evidenced by all the new buildings around the area — but the population was still incredibly small. Techno definitely didn’t like it, but he felt a lot better now that he had Ranboo reporting on behalf of the Syndicate. Ranboo was hesitant at first; he felt like he was spying on his husband and was being dishonest about his intentions for spending time in Snowchester. However, Techno quickly convinced him that it was for the greater good and the protection of the SMP to keep tabs on the commune.

At the docks, Techno reared back his arm and made the motion of throwing the trident. The familiar lurch pulled at his arm socket and launched him into the air, the rain like pellets hitting his face as he barreled through. Instead of the normal peace of flying, a sharp, pained squeal cut through his eardrums. Techno twisted in on himself, flipping the direction of the trident so that he went back to the dock. He landed on the wooden slats with a heavy thud and looked towards Tubbo’s and Ranboo’s house, the location of the scream.

Michael was running away from the house, Tubbo the diplomat trying to chase him as gracefully and with as much ambassador-like dignity as possible. Ranboo was underneath the porch, watching the whole affair with worried eyes. Michael was still squealing as if in pain; tears and rain mingled together as they ran down his cheeks. He made his way onto the dock, ran at Techno, and tackled his leg.

“Uncle Techno,” Michael sobbed, blubbering the words, “please- please don’t f- f- fall. You’re, you’re gonna- you’re gonna die!” At “die,” the sentence turned into a squeal-like wail, and Michael grabbed a piece of cloak to shove his snotty face into, his other hand wrapped tightly around Techno’s leg. Techno wanted to be annoyed at the fact that yes, he would definitely have to wash his cloak now, but the voices riled up into head splitting chants of victory. _Uncle Techno, awwwwww, Technouncle, Technolove, Technosoft, protect Michael, Michaellove_.

Techno looked up at Tubbo, alarmed. _What do I do?_ he mouthed at Tubbo, who was also looking at him, but wheezing while he did so. Tubbo had stopped running and was bent over, hands on his knees. Techno glanced past Tubbo at Ranboo, who was still under the safety of the porch. Ranboo was also keeled over but was out of breath from laughing instead of running. With his free hand, Techno reached out and lightly patted Michael on the back. “There, there,” he said. He glanced up at Tubbo just in time to see him stand up and slap his forehead.

“That’s not how you comfort a child,” Tubbo said in a forced whisper.

“I don’t know what I’m doing,” Techno hissed back.

“Pick him up!”

“Heh?” Tubbo rolled his eyes and crossed his arms. Techno stuck his trident in the sling made for it on his back, leaving his arms free. “Uh, Michael?” Michael looked up at him, sniffling and eyes shining with moisture. “Can I, uh, pick you up?” Michael’s arms shot up immediately, reaching for Techno and tiny fists opening and closing. Techno reached down and Michael jumped up eagerly. In this brand-new situation, Techno was quite uncoordinated and didn’t know what to expect, and thus, the corners of their foreheads collided. Techno sprung back up, hands held out, ready to comfort the boy for accidently hurting him, but even though Michael had a light red mark over his left eye, the pain didn’t seem to register. Michael tilted his head at Techno, confused as to why he wasn’t picked up, and his grabby hands opened and closed faster.

Techno reached down again, now anticipating the jump. He grabbed Michael around his midsection and lifted him into the air. Michael was now being held at arm’s length, legs dangling in the air. Teardrops still leaked out of his right eye at steady intervals. Techno looked around his head to make eye contact with Tubbo. “What do I do now?”

“Have you never held a child before?” Techno shook his head. The last time he had been around children was when he was one himself. Him and Wilbur had been roughly the same age, so there was no reason to carry him. Tommy had been younger, but Wilbur was the one who always carried him places or comforted him when he was upset. “Well you got to hold him closer than that.”

Techno bent his arms, bringing Michael closer. Michael reached out, wrapping his arms around Techno’s neck and his legs around his midsection. Techno glanced back at Tubbo for more direction. Tubbo held his arms out like he was holding Michael and swayed back and forth. Techno followed the movement. Michael tucked his head in Techno’s neck. Though Michael’s breathing was shaky, it was slowly leveling out. Tubbo nodded, giving him a small, reassuring smile that didn't quite reach his eyes.

Michael leaned away, reached out, and grabbed Techno’s braid from behind his back. He ran his fingers over it and started babbling about how his favorite colors were pink and purple, but purple was still his “more favorite.”

The voices picked up. _Do something with him, Technoplay, Technobabysit, EEEEEEE_. Well alright, then. Since the voices asked so nicely. “Hey, Michael.” Michael stopped talking and looked up at him. “Do you want to trident with me? It’s what I was doing earlier when I started flying and disappeared.”

Michael started to grin, but faltered when Tubbo broke in, his eyes wide. “Uh, I do not like that idea. That sounds incredibly dangerous.”

Michael craned his head to look at Tubbo. His bottom lip was pouted and quivering, and tears were threatening to spill from his eyes once again. “Daddy, please? I want to tri’ent with Techno.”

“Oh, come on, Tubs. It’ll be okay,” Ranboo shouted from the porch.

Tubbo exhaled, his eyes narrowed. “I guess it’s fine then.” Techno moved Michael so that he was on his hip and he could hold Michael with one arm and the trident with the other. Tubbo didn’t walk back to the house but stood in the still-pouring rain and crossed his arms.

“Tubbo, come back to the house and help me make dinner!” Ranboo yelled.

“No, I think I’ll stay here and watch!” Tubbo didn’t even turn around to reply to Ranboo; he kept his eyes on Techno and Michael.

“I _will_ come and get you!”

“Okay.” Tubbo was only half-listening to his husband.

“Okay then!” Ranboo disappeared from the porched and reappeared in a flurry of purple particles behind Tubbo. “Ouch ouch _ouchouchouch_ ,” he said under his breath as he grabbed Tubbo on his arms with both hands.

“Hey, what are you-“

With a _vwoop_ , they both teleported back to the porch. “We’re making dinner! Come eat when you’re done!” Ranboo called before ushering Tubbo into the house. _I guess I’m staying for dinner now_ , Techno thought. _Dinner pog, Technoeat, Technofamily, EEEEEEE_. If you know your enemy and know yourself, you need not fear the result of a hundred battles. What better way to know your enemy than to dine with him? Sure, it would be an informal, intimate setting in someone’s home that would require a good amount of social interaction. And sure, there was a good probability that he could get poisoned. But, he couldn’t turn down a chance at reconnaissance. Perhaps Tubbo would be relaxed enough at dinner that he would slip something up.

Techno glanced at Michael, who was latched onto his side and watching him eagerly. “Um. Are you ready, kid?” Michael nodded, and Techno grabbed the trident from behind his back. “Hold on tight,” Techno said, even though his own grip was enough to not let Michael fall. “Let’s- oof.” Michael had wrapped his arms around Techno’s neck and was squeezing as tight as he could, effectively cutting off Techno’s air and circulation. “Not that tight, kid,” Techno wheezed. Michael loosened his hold, but only a little. It’s _fine_. Techno reared the trident back and threw it, and they were off, flying through the air.

A squeal of delight escaped from Michael’s mouth, which was right beside Techno’s ear. As the sound pierced, he grimaced, but he was glad that Michael enjoyed it. They hit the end of the launch and they began to free fall. The squeal turned into high pitched giggles. Techno let them get close to the edge of the water before they were off again. Techno made a wide arc across the ocean, Michael going back and forth between laughs and screams. Techno landed back on the dock, both of them dripping wet from flying through the rain. Michael was currently dissolving in a fit of giggles — Techno wondered how he was able to breathe with all the laughter.

Eventually the giggles turned into shouts of “Again, again, do it again!”

“Um, are you sure?” Michael opened his mouth and screamed, the corners turned up in a smile. Techno blinked. “Does that mean yes?” Michael screamed again, this time sticking his tongue out, and shook his head as hard as he could. It looked absolutely ridiculous. “I guess so,” Techno drawled. Michael took another breath to scream again, but before he could, Techno threw the trident and they were flying once again.

Michael loved it just as much the second time around, evidenced by continued screams and giggles. They landed again, hitting the dock with a hard thud. Michael immediately began a chorus of “Again, again.” Techno was starting to feel cool, and Michael was shivering slightly.

“You’re starting to look cold, kid.”

“’M not,” Michael said, pouting his lip. _No wonder Tubbo caved earlier_.

_AWWWWW, TECHNOSOFT, TECHNOSOFT, TECHNOSOFT_.

Techno couldn’t help it. He relented. “One more time, and then we’re going inside.”

“Okay!”

The third time around, Techno was careful to stay closer to the ocean where it was warmer instead of higher up in the atmosphere. By the time they landed, Michael’s teeth were chattering, and his lips were a darker shade. Through the chattering, he still found it in him to chant, “Again, again.”

“Heh?”

“I wanna go again!”

“We just had a conversation where we agreed that that would be the last time.”

“Again!”

“You gave your verbal agreement! If you have any honor, that’s practically legally bindin’.”

“Again!”

Techno sighed. He needed to switch tactics if honor wasn’t enough. Physical threats it was. “If we go again, your internal body temperature will drop too low, and you will get hypothermia.”

Michael blinked at him. “What’s hyptherma?”

“Uh, it’s when you get really cold and it’s really bad.” Techno figured that Tubbo and Ranboo wouldn’t appreciate it if he told Michael all the horrific facts about the disease, including how it could kill him, given how he reacted earlier when he thought Techno was going to die. “You don’t want hypothermia, do you?” Michael shook his head. Techno exhaled slowly in relief. “Good, let’s go back inside and get you in some warm clothes. Then we can eat.”

Michael leaned back in Techno’s arm so violently that Techno had to drop his trident to catch him with his other hand. Michael threw his hands in the air and started yelling again. He stopped after a few seconds, completely oblivious to the look of shock Techno was giving him.

“Okay. M’hungry now.” _Why do children have to be this way?_ The voices disagreed. _Awwwww, Michael cute, Michael pog, Technosoft_.

Techno shifted him back to his hip, leaned down, and picked up his trident. He slipped it into the sling on his back and carried Michael to the house. They entered the house dripping wet. It didn’t take long are a puddle to form at Techno’s feet. Tubbo and Ranboo looked at them, jaws dropped. “I’ll go get you two a towel,” Tubbo said, backing out of the kitchen.

Techno gave him a curt nod. “Thanks.”

Tubbo walked to the back of the house and Ranboo set the wooden spoon he was holding down. Ranboo put his hands on his hips and smiled. “Well, did you two have fun?”

“YEAH,” Michael squealed incredibly loudly, because apparently, that was the only volume he knew how to use to communicate happiness.

“Good!” Ranboo said cheerily before turning back to the skillet on the stove.

Tubbo came back with two towels. Techno set Michael down so that Tubbo could wrap Michael up in it. With all the adrenaline gone, Michael was shivering quite violently now. Techno accepted the other towel. He unclipped his cloak and hung it on the hook by the door, then wrapped the towel around his shoulders. Since there was already a puddle on the floor, he went ahead and squeezed the water out of his braid on the floor.

“Tubbo, can you finish chopping the vegetables while I turn the chicken?”

Tubbo looked up from patting Michael dry. “I was going to go and change Michael.”

“It’s okay, I can do it.” The words left Techno’s mouth before he realized that he said them.

Tubbo appeared just as surprised as Techno. “Uh, okay I guess. His clothes are in the drawers.”

Techno picked up Michael, feeling like a pro when he anticipated the jump and smoothly swung Michael to his hip. “Do you have an enderchest? I have a change of clothes in mine.”

“Yeah it’s at the end of the hallway.”

“Tubbo, vegetables!”

Tubbo rolled his eyes, but he was smiling. “Okay, I’m coming.”

Techno took Michael back to his room and put him on the floor. “Take your wet clothes off.” Even Techno had no experience holding kids, he did remember helping Tommy get changed while Phil made dinner after they had training sessions. (Wilbur didn't like to make Tommy do things. It would upset Wilbur's place as Tommy's favorite if he did). Children were constantly wiggling, and their movements were unpredictable, so it was required that one be prepared. Techno grabbed a set of fleece pajamas that looked warm and a pair of underwear. When he turned around to lay the clothes out on the bed in the order that he would need them, he was pleasantly surprised to find that Michael had followed his instruction and has completely stripped down.

However, Michael was now doing parkour on the furniture around his room whilst fully naked.

Why were small children so weird and random?

Techno picked up Michael’s discarded towel and then grabbed him as he jumped off of the chest below the window. He threw Michael over his shoulder and covered him with the towel. Michael started giggling. Techno walked over to the bed, grabbed Michael, and gently tossed him onto the bed. Michael shrieked with delight. Techno finished drying Michael of with the towel, and just as he predicted, Michael started squirming and laughing.

“That tickles!” he yelped. Techno smiled and started poking his fingers underneath Michael’s right ribs. The giggles turned into high pitched squeals. “No, no, no,” Michael said, rolling away from Techno. Techno immediately withdrew, holding up his hands. He absolutely refused to do anything Michael didn’t want him to. Fear leached into his heart. Did he hurt him on accident? But, when Techno backed up, Michael stopped rolling and furrowed his eyebrow, confused. “Again,” Michael demanded. Techno sighed in relief that he hadn’t hurt Michael and began poking him in his side again. Laughter ensued. Techno moved across his abdomen and went to poke his left side. But, as he started to poke underneath his ribs, Michael didn’t laugh.

“Does that not tickle?” Techno asked. Michael shook his head. Techno looked closer at his left side. The good size area on and around his ribs was significantly paler than the rest of his skin. Techno placed his hand over it, checking for inflammation. Instead, it was unusually cool. _Maybe he’s still just cool from the rain_ , Techno thought, even though unease began to worm its way into his heart. “Does this hurt?” Techno gently pushed in various spots with two fingers.

“No. Can I get my pjs now? I’m cold,” Michael said. Techno dressed him quickly, thinking about how to bring it up to his parents without insinuating that they were negligent.

Techno sent Michael into the living area, went to the enderchest, and pulled out his Antarctic clothes. He changed out of his own wet clothes, glad to be in something that was warm. Techno went into the kitchen, fully dressed and his armor put away. Michael looked at him with confusion. “Where’s purple?”

Techno was confused himself before he remembered that Michael meant his armor. “It’s in the enderchest. It’s wet, so I had to take it off.” Michael nodded and went back to playing. “So I, uh, noticed some discoloration on Michael’s side when I was changing him.”

“His rash?” Tubbo pulled a tray out of the oven and set it on the table. “Yeah, that popped up a week ago, and there’s actually a similar spot underneath his left eye and on his cheek. We’ve been putting a little healing potion on it every morning and night. Neither of them seems to hurt or itch, so I think he’ll be okay.” Ranboo set a skillet next to the tray on the table.

“Okay. Just wondering.” Techno still felt at unease, thinking about what rashes typically looked like. But they were his parents, so they must know what was best for Michael.

Ranboo added another pan to the table and announced, “Dinner’s ready.” Michael immediately set down his toy and raced to the table. He started climbing up a chair that was smaller with a higher seat than the rest of them. Techno was able to recognize Tubbo’s handiwork in the careful designs on the legs and how well the pieces fit together. Tubbo swooped in to pick up Michael and set him in the seat. Tubbo moved and sat in the chair beside Michael. Ranboo sat himself down in the spot across from Tubbo, which at the four-person square table, also placed him beside his son.

“I wanna sit by Techno.” Michael furrowed his eyebrows and made a grand show of crossing his arms and snorting. Tubbo and Ranboo glanced at each other, a whole conversation passing in silence between their shared look. Tubbo briefly flicked his eyes up at Techno, his eyes narrowed, but Ranboo shook his head. Ranboo got up, tossing a smile up to Techno, and moved to sit across from Michael, leaving the spot open for him. Techno sat down, Tubbo eyeing him the entire time. Tubbo finally broke eye contact to fix Michael’s plate, grabbing a rather large baked potato off of the center platter.

As tense as it was between Tubbo and Techno, dinner proceeded relatively uneventful. Michael was delighted to find out that Techno loved potatoes as much as he did. Techno couldn’t help but think it was endearing, but that didn’t mean he was getting attached.

_Technolie, EEEEEEEE, Technolietechnolietechnolie, technofamily, technosoft_.

No, he wasn’t getting attached.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Was Ranboo trying his hardest to make sure Techno and Michael could spend as much time together as possible? Maybe. He’ll certainly never admit it. (He probably doesn’t remember that he did it.)
> 
> Also, I hope Michael’s random antics didn’t throw y’all off. I’ve literally been having conversations with little kids, and they’ve either just started screaming, running around, or both. I don’t understand them, but I hope I conveyed that in Michael well. 
> 
> Thanks to 7CxRhye for helping me proofread!


End file.
